Warda

Traveller reviews for Warda (1)

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  Style Over Substance

  brit_saigon -1 1 -1 does not recommend this, May 10, 2011

  In the surprisingly cosmopolitan Ho Chi Minh City, it was perhaps unsurprising to find a Lebanese restaurant alongside the plethora of international cuisines, and as a long time fan of Middle-Eastern cooking, I had been looking forward to trying Warda.

  First impressions were promising. Warda is tucked away at the end of a colonial-era alley off Mac Thi Buoi, and its courtyard is painted in bold, primary colours, and decked with plants, spangly cushions for lounging on, and colourful fabrics. Unfortunately, the novelty soon wears off if you're there to eat. The warning signs came when I realised that I was the only one eating. The place was half-full, but the customers were mainly affluent, young Vietnamese who were there for the cocktails and the fashionable activity of smoking a hookah.

  Service was painfully slow. Despite being the sole diner, I sat with a closed menu for ten minutes before anyone asked if I wanted so much as a drink. One waiter’s role seemed to consist only of fanning the flames of a small bowl of charcoals – presumably used for keeping the fruity tobaccos burning.

  The menu looked appealing enough with its range of Middle-Eastern classics, but my starter of hummus turned out to be a mean smear of puréed chickpeas topped with a withered stalk of parsley, and with none of the promised flavours of roast garlic, tahini, lemon or olive oil detectable. Oddly, the accompanying pitta bread had an acrid smoked taste, which as well as being unpleasant, completely overwhelmed the already bland hummus.

  Matters took a turn for the worse when a brown sludge purporting to be lentil, carrot and cumin soup arrived, inexplicably in a glass dessert bowl. I could taste the cumin. In fact, that’s all I could taste; a woefully under-seasoned, grainy cumin slop, served with a handful of crackers and a wedge of lemon. These two accoutrements (where was the salt and pepper?) only served to turn the dish into an acidic, crunchy, under-seasoned, grainy cumin slop.

  I tried my best to enjoy the atmosphere, but after forcing down half of the soup and a glass of lukewarm white wine, the pumping soundtrack of Turkish techno music, and the general feeling of dissatisfaction became too much. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting for the bill and then waiting for my change, I left, wishing I’d had a falafel kebab in Pham Ngu Lau for a fifth of the price.

  I won’t be heading back to Warda in a hurry. Maybe I was unlucky in my choice of food, but to me Warda is a clear example of style over substance. For a place which pitches itself as an authentic Lebanese restaurant, it needs to get its priorities in order. Does it want to be a trendy hookah and cocktail bar or a quality, mid-range eatery? If it’s the former, then it seems to be doing quite well. If the latter, they need to turn down the music, learn a little about service, and hire a chef who has at least tasted Middle Eastern cuisine (not too mention his own cooking). As it stands, there’s more flavour in the hookah smoke than in food, and more attention given to the charcoals than to the customers.

  Good for: Smoking a hookah

  Not good for: eating

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